Crimson Apples
by no white horse for me
Summary: she's only ever been good at over analysing people / all the inhabitants of Storybrooke from Emma's bloodshot eyes
1. Graham

_Everyone's around, no words are coming now.  
And I can't find my breath, can we just say the rest with no sound.  
And I know this isn't enough, I still don't measure up.  
And I'm not prepared; sorry is never there when you need it  
~Good To You, Marianas Trench ft. Jessica Lee_

**Graham**

He was a lover.

"Graham?" Emma called desperately, hands roaming over his body searching for a pulse. She shook him, hard, angrily, fearfully. She screamed his name again, gripping his wrist, searching for a pulse, something to show that he was alive. There was nothing.

She doubled over, sobbing, tears falling through her eyelashes and onto Graham's grey uniform, splashing onto his sheriff badge. Emma screamed, the sound loud and dead, empty of all emotion. How could she feel when Graham didn't? "I'm so sorry." She whispered, though she didn't know who to. She had a lot of things to be sorry for, a lot of people who deserved an apology from her. They weren't going to get one.

Well, apologies were never her strong point.

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**i know it's short, but its late. it's going to be a multichapter, with every single character from storybrooke - as many as i can remember she knows - from Emma's standpoint. hope you enjoy! and don't forget to drop your reviews!  
no white horse for me**


	2. Mary Margaret

**Mary Margaret **

She was a friend. A good friend.

She made cocoa with cinnamon on top, just a sprinkling, but it made the sugary drink brighter, sweeter, more interesting. Emma liked Mary Margaret. She was good to have a laugh with. She was like the mother Emma had never known – well, at least what Emma expected a mother to be.

Valentine's Day had been a disaster. An absolute disaster. Mr. Gold had been arrested, locked up for attempted murder on a florist, a man who, as far as Emma could see, had never done anything to Mr. Gold to deserve such a beating. Emma crept up the stairs silently, hoping not to disturb Mary Margaret. She suddenly stopped on the landing. Crying was peeling away from Mary's bedroom.

With hesitation, Emma crept over to the white door and knocked on it gently – it swung away from its hinges and Emma stuck her head through. "Mary?" She whispered cautiously. The woman on the bed sat up, startled, and looked at the blond standing in the doorway.

"Emma." Mary murmured, before she broke down again. Without saying anything, Emma sat down on the bed and let her friend – her best friend – break into girl sized pieces on her shoulder. And she couldn't do anything about it.

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**drop a review!  
no white horse for me**


	3. David

**David**

****He was a coma patient who had caused more trouble than he was worth.

Her favorite red leather jacket was doing little to curb the cold. Mary must have been frozen, still wearing a light sundress with sandals. Graham led the small group of rescuers, one hand on his gun, the other holding the flashlight.

"Graham!" Mary Margaret suddenly shouted. She was at the back, and Emma was in the middle. The other two turned around to see Mary running through the forest.

"Troll bridge." Graham muttered, grabbing Emma's hand and tugging her along. Emma could hear the steady trickle of a stream, and she sped up, breaking away from Graham's grip. Mary Margaret was hunched over a body face down in the water, a paper thin hospital gown floating around his knees. Normally Emma would have winced or stone something to cover him up, but right now she couldn't care less.

Emma helped Mary pull the man up onto the pebbles on his back, and as Mary fell beside him, hands compressed over his chest, Emma had a startling wave of déjà vu. But Emma had never been here before, had never seem this bridge before.

The man had a wife who said that his name was David Nolan. But even as Emma went home that night, trying to ignore Mary's vacant stare and her glossed eyes, Emma fell into bed and dreamt of David Nolan, dressed in a white blouse, tight pants and wielding a sword.

Emma woke at 2:56am screaming for her parents, parents she had never known.

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**drop your reviews! This took about 10 minutes at an Italian restaurant so it's probably not my best work...**

**No white horse for me**


	4. Ashley

**Ashley**

She was trouble from the first bite.

Emma supposed she wasn't one to judge – she had had Henry when she was 18, and there was no reason to judge Ashley when she was one year older. But still. Yet there was something about Ashley that made Emma want to stick up for her. Maybe it was the way she held her head, or the way she was letting everyone wander all over her, just lying down at their feet and letting them trample all over her dreams.

Of course, Emma never meant for it to go that far.

Ashley wasn't _supposed_ to break into Mr. Gold's shop. Ashley wasn't _supposed_ to stay in hiding with Ruby. Ashley wasn't _supposed to leave town at all. _And then Henry pulled out the wild card and said that he wanted to go with her and he was just trying to be her son, and Emma said that wasn't fair but she couldn't say no now.

So, more trouble – a girl with a baby on the way, an old man in serious need of dental work who was going to take her baby, and a son who 'just wanted to spend time with her'. Emma figured this was going to be a long day.

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**review, please.  
no white horse for me**


	5. Henry

**Henry**

He was her son.

She was shaking as she reached out to him, pushing back his dark brown hair – a trait from his father – and stared down, imaging she was looking at his honey eyes instead of his steady eyelids. Tears slipped from her ducts and down her pale face, down across her chin and landing down her top, or leaving stains on her red jacket.

She wanted to whisper, _my baby_, she wanted to cry, to scream – she could hear Regina practically dying behind her – but all Emma did was lean down so she could see every curve, every crevice, every freckle on his washed out face, murmur shakily, "I love you, Henry," and press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

She felt the heat radiate out – she felt the shift. She felt him move. She felt him breathe.

She felt him say, "I love you, too."

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**someone is going to have to tell me what happened in the second season cause we dont have it here! argghh! anyway, review.  
no white horse for me**


	6. Mr Gold

**Mr Gold**

****He was a monster, and Emma didn't doubt that.

And she didn't trust him, or like him. Not after he lied to her about Ashley, or after what he did to the flower delivery guy.

She watched him sitting in the jail cell, holding his cane like it was a lifeline, and she couldn't help but wonder who on earth he was talking about when he said, "You KILLED her!"

Who was the her that he was talking about? How had that man killed this girl and was still walking free?

_Brown hair, brown eyes, pale complexion. A pretty girl with a pretty heart, clutching a basket as she walked. A black wood carriage riding up behind her, her stepping to the side as the carriage drew to a halt. The door opened and out stepped -_

__Emma shook her head, the image of the young girl burned into her eyelids. She glanced at Mr Gold, who was watching her as thought heknew what she was experiencing. She was tempted to ask - she opened her mouth, but all that came out was an offer for her sandwich.

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**Again, written in a restaurant. Enjoy, little kids! And I will be starting a NCIS/Avengers fanfic, but my laptop keeps breaking down on me, so when that works, it will be up! Review!**

**no white horse for me**


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